


Rub-A-Dub-Tub

by sleepyowlet



Category: Dragon Age
Genre: Bathtubs, Erotica, F/M, M/M, Moresomes, Multi, Oral Sex, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-07
Updated: 2012-08-07
Packaged: 2017-11-11 15:55:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/480242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepyowlet/pseuds/sleepyowlet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The company decides to relax in a bathhouse on their way to Redcliffe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rub-A-Dub-Tub

**Author's Note:**

> Babblerama: Been wanting to do this for a while. Inspired by some re-enactments I participated in. They have somebody operating a big, wooden medieval bathtub most of the time. And of course stuff happens in these. The food is authentic medieval fare, people were very fond of spices and sauces – especially in England. I have a translation of a 14th century cloister-cook-book at home with a whole chapter dedicated to sauces, one at least for every kind of meat. And they counted different poultry as different kinds of meat. Sauce for the goose is good for the gander, but not necessarily for the duck or chicken, because the different ingredients were also supposed to help digestion and were thus differently mixed according to fattiness and toughness of the meat. Alistair describes Ferelden cuisine as bland – I think, he just never really had the opportunity to taste real, good food.  
> And I hope, I have somehow captured Leliana's flair for the dramatic. Oh, and the title was brought to you by the incomparable Shakespira.

**Rub-A-Dub-Tub**

 

by owlet

 

 

The little town they'd stopped in on their way to Redcliffe was an idyllic one. The Blight hadn't reached it yet, and even though people were slowly leaving for the protective fortifications of Denerim, the inn and the public bathhouse were still open.

Much to Loghain's chagrin his companions decided to make use of the latter, so he tagged along, very aware of his low rank in the pecking-order.

The Warden rented two tubs for their use, each separated by curtains, and Loghain ended up sharing one with her, the Bard, and the Assassin. There was a wooden board laid across the tub with plenty of food and drink on it, courtesy of the proprietor – who had gone all out on them as soon as he'd discovered who they were. There was bread and cheese, ham and slices of apple, roast chicken served with a spicy sauce, and small meat-pastries that smelled delicious. There were even some grapes.

His companions didn't seem to mind each other's company, chatting amiably, sipping wine from plain tin-cups. It had been quite some time since he had shared a bath with anyone, he mused, certainly not since the rebellion. And now here he was, sitting in a big, wooden tub next to an Antivan Crow and opposite an Orlesian Bard and a Grey Warden. 

But the water was pleasantly hot and fragrant and the wine was passable, so he took another sip and willed himself to relax.

“Ah, this is so nice, no? After walking all day through this drizzle,” the aforementioned Bard said, and stretched her arms over her head with a blissful sigh. The movement lifted her breasts out of the water; wet and glistening, with some of the dried flowers scenting the water clinging to them, they looked lush and supple. Loghain swallowed and told himself that he was not affected by the sight at all.

“Oh yes, very nice indeed,” the assassin purred, eyeing the Orlesian's breasts with a lazy smile.

“There won't be many more occasions like this in the near future,” the Warden sighed, reaching for a piece of roast chicken.

“True, so we should do our utmost to enjoy ourselves while we still can, no?”

It was getting dark outside and an attendant came in to light some candles.

“Yes, we definitely need to relax,” Zevran said with a saucy grin and asked the attendant, a sleek elf-maiden in a gauzy shift, to bring more wine.

Loghain ate in silence as the others reminisced about their adventures together.

“And that rhyming Elder Oak,” Leliana chortled, ”does that make me Poet Tree!”

The Warden's lips twitched.

“Yes, that was quite funny. I rather liked that forest, even if it was a little more alive than it ought to be. And it was nice to be somewhere where nobody was out to get me personally.”

Loghain winced. He had been out to get her, and he couldn't decide what was more humiliating, that he hadn't managed to catch her, or that she'd been right all along.

The second jug of wine was empty in no time and another was ordered.

“Relax, dear Warden,” Leliana said in a soothing tone.

“After a year of running and fighting, I'm not sure I know how to any more,” the young woman answered with an awkward smile.

The Bard reached out and brushed the hair out of the Warden's face with an affectionate, yet sensual gesture.

“Oh, now we can't have that, can we? I have an idea how to help you relax, but you must trust me, yes?”

“What do you have in mind?”

“Just a massage,” the Bard answered and Loghain could see an adventurous gleam in her eyes.

The Warden sighed and emptied her cup.

“That sounds wonderful, Leli,” she said, and the Orlesian helped her settle in front of her, between her legs, then lifted the other woman's long, wet hair over one shoulder to bare her back.

“Now close your eyes and don't open them until I say...”

The warden's eyelids slid down until her long lashes brushed against her cheeks, her lips half open. Loghain took another sip of his wine, his mouth suddenly dry.

The water covered both of them, and the Bard's hands moved only over the Warden's nape and shoulders, yet the movements seemed strangely erotic. Glancing at the man next to him, he saw the assassin loosely holding his cup, eyes riveted to the scene unfolding before them.

“I can't reach your back. Kneel, please?”

The Warden did, hiding her breasts with her hands. Leliana continued to massage her back, and then, with a cheeky smile in Loghain's and Zevran's direction, pulled an arm away from the other woman's chest and started to knead the muscles, baring one creamy mound of flesh to their gazes.

The Warden swallowed visibly when Leliana switched to her other arm, but left her breasts uncovered.

Loghain had to admit to himself that they were lovely; smallish, perky with tips of a pale rose colour peeking through strands of wet hair. The Bard moved her hands to the Warden's lower back which elicited an appreciative hum that went straight to Loghain's groin.

After refilling the Warden's cup, Leliana held it to her lips, encouraging her to drink. Some of the wine spilled over, staining the Warden's lips red, flowing over her chin down her neck to her chest.

The Bard leaned around and licked it off slowly, sensually capturing half open lips in a hesitant kiss. The Warden didn't protest, kissed her back instead.

Loghain drew in a deep, shuddering breath. This was getting out of hand; he really should do something to stop them, he thought, but somehow couldn't bring himself to do so.

Leliana artfully repositioned herself and the other woman without breaking their slow kiss. Giving up all pretence, her hands explored the Warden's pale skin to finally cup her breasts. The Warden let her, tilting her head back as Leliana's lips trailed along her neck to finally close around a nipple. She sucked and then flicked at it with her tongue it for a while, so her silent observers could see it harden into a tight little nub. This definitely did have an effect on Loghain, his cock was rock-hard and pulsing by now. He desperately wanted to touch himself, but his pride made him refrain. He closed his fingers around his cup instead, gripping it so tightly his knuckles turned white.

He jumped when he felt a hand on his thigh.

“Peace, Loghain,” the assassin murmured into his ear, “enjoy the show and let me help you relieve your ache. Because you do ache, don't you; seeing those beautiful temptresses at play.”

Loghain exhaled and shut his eyes for a moment to clear his head. The wine had made him slightly dizzy, and when he looked back at the two young women, his foggy mind couldn't think of a reason not to follow the promise of pleasure. Leliana shared a kiss and a grape with the warden, tongues playfully wrapping around each other and the little fruit between them, when he felt Zevran's fingers closing around his member.

The Bard broke the kiss and helped the Warden to sit on the rim of the tub. Loghain bit down on a groan as creamy thighs spread to reveal a nest of soft, glistening curls. Leliana spread the Warden's nether lips to show them the pink folds between them, and after shooting them a saucy grin, licked her lips and closed in.

The Warden gave a soft mewl and Loghain swallowed again, imagining himself in the Bard's place, his tongue buried inside his Commander's sex. His eyes drifted to her face, open and unguarded, flushed, her eyes still closed. Her breath came in quick bursts that made her breasts bob up and down with each gulp of air, perfectly in time with the clever hand stroking him to orgasm.

It was over much too soon, he spilt himself into the bathwater, and moments later the Warden came with a high-pitched wail, the Bard holding her, anchoring her to the tub so she wouldn't fall.

The assassin withdrew his hand after milking the last drops from him, giving him a heavy-lidded half-smile. The Bard guided a trembling Warden back into the water and fed her some more grapes between affectionate kisses.

Loghain felt lazy and languid, the images replaying in his mind again and again as they all got out, dried themselves and dressed. The Warden was blushing and refused to meet his eyes as they made their way over to the inn where they would stay the night.

 

...

 

“So, did it work?”

“I guess it did, cara mia. He was absolutely mesmerized. My guess is that her wounded heart will be soothed soon.”

“And then she will finally stop moping, no? I hope she will let him. At least for a while.”

“I hope so too, since she didn't let one of us offer comfort. I say ... four days.”

“Non, non, non. He is very reserved and she is very shy. I say at least a week.”

“Ah, bonita, I think you underestimate them both. But I'm game, the usual stakes?”

“Bien sûr. Oh tell me, what is he ... like?”

Zevran shot his partner in crime an impish smile.

“I think our dear Warden will be ... pleasantly surprised.”


End file.
